Mmmm, this nice leafy way to the cycle track? Or something a bit more taxing? (It is the path to the cycle track, even though it tells cyclists to dismount – it's just a narrow path, in case you were wondering.)
Something a bit more taxing, I decided. Also, I fancied one of those breathtaking sunset views and you have to get up a bit higher to see those properly. So the new road it was. Before that, though, I had a little game of chicken, whereby I stood in the middle of the road and waited as long as I dared before taking a photo. Juvenile, I know. Nowhere near as dangerous as pre-lockdown chicken, though.
Look at these little dudes. How cute are they before they open up?! I saw them and thought, ooh, I must show my readers these tiny spherical buds. A little lockdown present to cheer you up.
Thomas's college is right next to the new road, as I'm sure I've mentioned. Here it is. Someone's been in to cut the grass, which is nice.
There were a lot of trucks on the new road this evening, which is not really unusual because they'll have got off the ferry from Ireland. It's cheering to see them, though, those mighty heroes, keeping us all fed. Thanks, truckers!
The ferry comes in waaaaaaaay down that end of the new road, at Heysham. Aren't you finding this completely fascinating? Pictures of a road that you've seen many times now? I know, I do spoil you.
Fancy having windows on a road. The novelty of these strange road windows hasn't worn off yet – I think they're so weird.
Look, they're on the other side as well. That's even weirder because there's no pavement over on that side so who's going to be looking through them? Maybe that sky dragon. Corrrr, look at him! He's awesome!
Last time I walked up this road, I said to myself that I should remember that it is actually a fair trek up to my bench and that I should only do this walk when I've got enough energy. I forgot that I'd said that. I got to about here when I remembered, and there was still some way to go. But once you've started on a walk at this time of night, it's quicker to just finish it than give up and start a different one. The good thing about this bit, though, was that it reminded me I wouldn't have to walk back the way I'd just come because there's a shortcut back from the bench.
If you managed to get through that last paragraph, well done – because that was the most rambling bit of awful writing I've ever written!
Made it! This is where my bench is, you'll remember, looking over Lancaster this way:
And looking over Morecambe this way. This is why I love it here. I can see for many, many miles across my two towns. I do feel like a Morecambe person these days, but I will always be a Lancaster person as well.
Three trucks were parked in front of my bench this evening – you might just be able to make them out here. Will these guys be sleeping here this evening? Do they sleep in their trucks? I'm guessing that they do. Maybe they'll sleep here and catch the ferry first thing in the morning. I feel like I want to drive out and see if they're still here, but I can't because we're not allowed out twice and my neighbours might grass on me.
I sat here for ages with my flask of tea. I was just staring at things, trying to work out which lights belonged to which buildings, enjoying the fact that it was a lovely, mild evening. If I'd had a pop-up tent and a little camping stove, I would have been quite happy to stay up here and just observe for a bunch of hours.
I say that, but then I remembered I was alone, a little over a mile from home, in the dark, and also hungry. This was how dark it was when I finally decided I'd best head home:
As you can see, the path wasn't visible so I had to remember how to get down off the road. At one point, I went over on my ankle in a little dip and thought I was going to have to limp home in awful pain; but I didn't, it was fine.
So, I'm crunching down this gravel path and I realise that the rest of this shortcut home is down ... The Lanes, and it's pitch black down there, and I have to go past the crematorium. I could use a different shortcut but it wouldn't really be a shortcut because it would add an extra mile, but at least it would be lit. Naturally, being an idiot, I decided to risk ... The Lanes. The last time I walked down The Lanes I was with Matthew and I remember saying to him, these lanes aren't as long as they seem, are they? And Matthew agreed with me and we were home in no time. But time plays strange tricks at night, and I think I was walking down The Lanes for at least six hours. I hadn't got very far at all when I noticed how fast I was walking because LACTIC ACIIIIIIIIIDDDD! Ouch. Except that I couldn't just slow down because I was down ... The Lanes. I had to keep up this pace now because my brain had convinced itself that I'd get grabbed by something if I slowed.
Sweating, hurting in the legs, eyes wide as saucers to let in as much light as possible (even though there wasn't any), I nearly leapt out of my skin when I saw another person on the road ahead of me. I'm sure he nearly leapt out of his skin as well when he looked round and saw and heard this mad woman hurtling towards him, puffing and panting up the lane, staring like a tarsier.
(This is a tarsier!)
I left him to ponder that one without so much as an 'evening' and carried on.
I made it back to civilisation, as you know, because I'm writing this. I've never been so happy to see an empty, well-lit car park.
Roughly six minutes later, I was home, stripping off my winter coat and boasting to the boys about how I'd felt the buuuuuurrnnnnn. Idiot.
Until tomorrow, sensible day exercisers.
WQ
P.S. Matthew just asked me to tell you that he couldn't come out for the walk today because he was heroically cleaning his room ... AT LAAAASSSSTTT!!! Hurraaaaaay!
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